


You Know What They Say About Assumptions

by Pixelated_Wings



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: I Tried, M/M, Post-Canon, Pros, Rivalry, Rivals, andrew is a scary goth boi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 18:52:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25890118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixelated_Wings/pseuds/Pixelated_Wings
Summary: Another Rivalry fic. I am so sorry.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 17
Kudos: 292





	You Know What They Say About Assumptions

**Author's Note:**

> Well... I tried. This is my first freeform fic (I usually do alt POVs). I absolutely love these characters, and I've been toying around with this idea for a while. Finally just sat down and wrote it. Hope you enjoy :).

The rivalry wasn’t very noticeable at first. Just a few teasing comments from Neil; A few “I hate you”s from Andrew during press conferences. The fateful article was one written by a young aspiring journalist who was looking for her big break. And a big break it was. At a post-game press conference, she managed to get a microphone in Andrew’s face and asked him how he felt about the “reins of the Foxes being passed down to Josten when he was an equally, if not more skilled player.” Andrew turned towards the camera and said with complete apathy, “I hate both exy and the exy junkie, so why should I care?”

From then on, every Foxes game was scrutinized by adoring exy fans for any sign of ill will between the two teammates. Neil would read the articles and blog posts on his phone over his morning coffee, cackling when a theory was completely off the mark, occasionally turning his phone towards Andrew to read. 

The rivalry, unfortunately, followed them on to their respective pro teams. 

“Where is Josten!?” came a shout from the hallway just outside the janitor's closet that Neil and Andrew were currently hiding in. It had taken almost twenty minutes of sneaking around to escape their respective teams and find a place private enough to steal a few kisses before the game.

“Minyard is missing too!” came an equally panicked reply. 

“I feel like we are fucking teenagers,” Andrew murmured in Neil’s ear. Neil gave him a puzzled, yet amused look. “We are trying to hook up in the janitor's closet while our teammates are running around like chickens with their heads cut off.”

Neil let out an amused huff. “We should probably go,” he said, pressing his lips to Andrew’s. “I don’t think the chickens will survive much longer without their heads. Andrew only gazed at him blankly while Neil’s grin was wide enough for the both of them. Neil pressed his ear to the door, and when he only heard silence, he opened the door wide enough to peer through and inspect the now empty hallway. They walked back to the locker rooms in comfortable silence, parting ways at the end of the hall. 

As Neil entered the home locker room for the Chicago Bears, he was immediately smothered in questions and scrutinizing glares.

“Yo dude!” said Rodriguez, one of the starting backliners who had adopted Neil his first day, much like Matt had. “We were about to start checking dumpsters. We were sure Minyard had stuffed your dead body into one.” 

No matter how many times he heard people talk about Andrew that way, he would never like it. 

“I’m fine,” he said, a dismissal in his tone. After a few exasperated looks, the team quickly changed out and headed out to the court to stretch and warm-up. The crowd was large tonight--larger than Neil had ever seen it. His eyes searched for Andrew and found hazel eyes staring back at him. 

“Alright team, huddle up!” yelled his coach. “I want all of y’all to play your hardest. Score as much as you can in the first half before they put Minyard in. Josten, I know your relationship with him isn’t the best so if he gives you any trouble, let me or one of your teammates know and we’ll take care of it. Besides that, any weaknesses we should know of?”

Neil scoffed, contemplating his options and settled for the truth. “He’s amazing. And he’s not going to let me score tonight. You’re better off figuring out his rotation schedule and only put me in when he’s off. It’s honestly a tossup whether or not he will try to block anyone else on the team.” 

His teammates exchanged confused looks.

“ _ Alright _ …” his coach said, clearly confused on what to do with that information. “You guys know what you are doing. Go out there and kick some ass. Bring it in.” 

They all put their fists into the middle of their huddle, calling out the name of their team on the count of three. 

The buzzer sounded, warning the teams that they were about to start the game. As both teams took their spots, Neil made eye contact with Andrew across the court and grinned. Andrew’s only response was to tap two fingers against his brow.  _ This was going to be interesting. _

The game ended up 6-4 in Neil’s favor. Andrew had shut him out most of the game, allowing him only one goal, but had barely tried against any of the other strikers. As soon as the post-game interviews were done, Neil hightailed it to his locker, grabbed his things, electing to skip the shower until he got to Andrew’s apartment. He met Andrew at his car, hurriedly getting into the passenger's seat and pressing a kiss to the driver’s cheek, a hint of stubble ticking his lips. They drove home in silence, the radio playing some old jazz song quietly in the background. Neil stared out the window until they reached Andrew’s apartment. Once they were inside, Neil headed towards the shower, Andrew close behind. Once they were finished, they retreated to the bed, Andrew with a book and Neil holding a cat. They sat like this for an hour or so, just content to be in each other's company. They had never really needed words to communicate or to feel comfortable. Sometimes silence said just as much.

“Do you like your team?”

Neil lifted his head to peer at Andrew. He sat up, pushing King off of his chest and twisting his body to face Andrew’s. 

“I mean I guess. Why?” 

“I don’t like mine,” Andrew said. “The coach is too strict and the team doesn’t understand the word ‘space.’” 

“Oh.” Andrew looked at Neil expectantly. They sat like that for a few moments until Neil realized what Andrew was suggesting. “Oh! Drew are you sure?”

Andrew nodded. “But only if you are too.” He looked towards Neil’s hand, then to his own. Neil nodded, turning his hand up towards the ceiling and Andrew slipped his hand into Neil’s. Their hands fit together like puzzle pieces, black spaces completed by the other’s fingers. 

Neil squeezed his hand. “Yes, Drew. I miss you.” 

So that was that. Andrew submitted his transfer request the next day and it was approved the week after. 

When Neil’s coach made the announcement a month later, his teammates looked at Neil with a mix of shock and fear. 

“Are you okay with this, Man?” Rodriguez asked him.

“Of course. He’s the best goalie in the league. Why wouldn’t I want him on my team?”

“But…” 

Neil’s glare could have frozen over Hell. it also kept anyone asking about Andrew’s transfer for the rest of the day. It didn’t stop them for much longer than that. The day Andrew was set to start, Neil received seventeen text messages from his teammates asking if he was really okay with Andrew’s transfer. Neil, his body held tightly to Andrew’s, giggled in amusement. Andrew tightened his arms around his husband--an arrangement, if you asked them, that was made for getting past hospital staff and nothing more--and Neil held the phone a little higher so Andrew could read over his shoulder. Andrew just huffed and nuzzled his face into Neil's back, looking to sleep for another five minutes.

They were the first ones at the court that day. While Andrew went to fill out some more paperwork, Neil plopped down on the loveseat across from the T.V. and pulled out his phone to check his emails, content to wait for Andrew to come out of the office. While he was waiting, he heard the door to the outside open and glanced up briefly when Rodriguez walked into the lounge followed closely by the rest of his teammates.

“Hey, Josten! How are you bud?” Rodriguez said, ambling up to the loveseat. “Minyard here yet?” 

Neil jerked his head towards the office door. When he didn’t elaborate further, Rodriguez hummed, putting his bag at Neils's feet and collapsing onto the other side of the couch while the rest of the team found their own spots. 

“Just so you know, everyone here has your back. If he even looks at you funny I’ll--”

“--I can handle myself, Rodriguez,” Neil said, cutting him off with a sharp glare.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, he finally heard the office door open, and someone cleared their throat relatively loudly. Instantly, all the eyes in the room found the source of the sound. The couch stood just outside the door to his office, Andrew, stoic as ever by his side, intimidating despite the fact that he barely reached the couched shoulder. He had ditched his sweatshirt from the morning and his muscles stretched the black fabric of his t-shirt in a very attractive manner that, even after three years of marriage, still made Neil’s heart race.

“Alright, listen up! As you know, we have a new transfer starting today. Minyard, this is the team. Team, Minyard. Now I know it’s always hard adding a new member to the lineup, but let's all try to get along.” 

The last part was said obviously directed at Neil and he couldn’t help but smirk back. The couch just let out a sigh and dismissed the team to get changed. 

Ten minutes later, they were on the court running through their warm-up drills. However, most of the team wasn’t focused on the drills. Their eyes were glued to their new, murderous goalie and the striker who didn’t know how to keep his mouth shut. When Andrew blocked Neil’s shot, a barrage of harsh-sounding words flew out of his mouth. The goalkeeper would only give him a flat look and occasionally respond in the same tongue. When they stopped for a water break, Neil sauntered over to the goal. The striker and goalkeeper stared each other down for a few moments while the rest of the team held their breath as they waited for someone to throw a punch. Eventually, Andrew muttered a word under his breath and much to the surprise of the others, Neil threw his head back and laughed. 

The rest of the practice followed along the same lines. The Thunderbirds were shocked by how well the supposed rivals got along. They almost never left each other's side, and when they were on the court they moved as one, barely a word said between them, yet Andrew knew exactly where Neil would be and Neil trusted Andrew to get the ball to where Neil needed it to score. 

By the end of the week, the team had more questions than answers. When the team met for their weekly drinks, there was an avid discussion after the two left, both stating they had to feed their cats.

“Maybe they have some sort of telepathy? I mean I would hate someone who can see inside my mind.” 

“Nah. They definitely were best friends until they both fell for the same girl and had a huge falling out.”

“Or maybe they just don’t hate each other?” 

All eyes turned towards their captain. They all considered this for a minute, before swiftly dismissing the possibility.

“I think it was aliens…”

The next week at practice, Rodriguez saw Minyard slipping a ring off of his fourth finger and onto a chain around his neck. When he relayed this to the rest of the team, they all had their own theories on who was crazy enough to marry Andrew Minyard, Exy’s resident psycho. 

“Maybe he met her at a bar, slept together, and when she got pregnant, he got married out of obligation to her and the baby?” 

“I can’t see Minyard doing anything out of obligation.”

“Yo Neil!” Rodriguez called, spotting Neil heading towards the bench. “Did you know that Minyard was married?”

Neil gave him a puzzled look. “Uh, yeah?”

“Do you know who it is?”

“Yeah.”

They waited for him to elaborate, and when he didn’t the backliner prodded further. 

“Well? Who is it?” 

Neil considered this for a moment. 

“None of your business. Why don’t you ask him?” 

“No way. I asked him how he was doing the other day and he just glared at me until I left.” 

Neil just shrugged. 

The matter of Andrew Minyard’s mystery spouse wasn’t solved until the third game of their season. Neil had just made an impossible shot and had turned to look at Andrew, when a backline plowed into him at full speed, slamming him into the wall. Everyone in the stadium held their breath waiting for Neil to get back up. When he didn’t, the ref blew the whistle and the nurse hurried on to the court, making her way to Neil and Andrew, who, the second that he saw Neil get hit, had dropped his racket and sprinted up the court. She checked him for injuries, finding a nasty bruise on his ribs. She signaled to the ref that she was taking him out of the game, and asked Andrew to help lift Neil and get him off the court. When they got to the bench, the nurse began to check Neil over, dismissing Andrew to go back to the game. Instead of leaving, Andrew just looked at his husband. Neil nodded, offering him a weak smile. Andrew just sighed, a muttered ‘Junkie’ passing his lips as he turned to the nurse again, looking at her expectantly. 

“He just bruised a rib. Should be back on his feet by tomorrow and playing again a few days after that.”

Andrew just nodded, accepting her words and headed back onto the court. Unfortunately for the other team, Andrew now had a reason to try. When the buzzer rang a 10-4 victory for the Thunderbirds, Andrew walked straight out the court door, ignoring the traditional handshake. He walked straight past the bench to the locker room in search of his wayward junkie. However, when he got to the nurse’s office, he found the bed empty. He rushed back out to the sitting room, finding the coach on the phone. At Andrew’s panicked expression, the couch hung up the phone.

“Where is he?” Andrew’s voice was barely above a whisper, his mind bringing up memories of another arena, another solemn coach. 

“He’s on his way to the hospital. He passed out ten minutes ago and we called an ambulance.”

“What!?” 

Andrew didn’t process a single word after ‘hospital’, already grabbing his keys and sprinting towards the parking lot. The rest of the team was not far behind. When Andrew slid into his car, he was surprised to see Rodriguez and Madoux get in as well. Andrew didn’t argue, deeming it a waste of time, time that he was away from Neil. 

He broke almost every traffic law on the way to the hospital. By the time they burst through the doors of the Emergency room, Andrew had reached a state of panic and burning rage that he hadn’t reached in a long time. 

“Name,” The receptionist asked

“Andrew Minyard.” he spit out, murder written across his face. 

“Who are you here for?” 

“Neil Josten.” 

“I’m sorry Mr. Minyard, he’s about to go into surgery, but I’ll get you an update as soon as I can. Please follow me to the waiting room” 

They were led into a room down the hallway filled with hard plastic chairs and a shitty looking coffee machine. 

It could have been hours, days, even weeks before the nurse came back. Andrew hadn’t moved a muscle since he sat down in the chair. 

“Mr. Minyard?” Andrew shot up from his seat. “He’s stable now. Please follow me if you want to see him.” 

“Are you going to see Neil? Wait for me!” Rodriguez said, having been awoken by the nurse’s entrance. 

“I’m sorry sir, but we only allow immediate family during non-visiting hours, but you are welcome to come back tomorrow morning.”

“Wait why is Minyard allowed back then?” Rodriguez asked, a bewildered expression on his face. 

“Because we’re married,” Andrew said, already out the door, the nurse following shortly. 

After the door slammed shut, the team sat in silence for a few seconds, processing this new information. 

“Pay up,” Madoux said. 

  
  



End file.
